Page 10 of Blue Eyes & Paris Vibes

“You know what, I’m done anyways,” I declare and get up, gathering my cutlery, shooting a wistful look at my still half-full coffee that I was looking forward to drinking at ease before leaving. Maybe I’ll find some on my way. I still have half an hour to kill, but I don’t want Mr. Rude to ruin my day before it even properly started.

“No, stay. I didn’t mean to chase you away.” He lets out a small sigh and looks up from his coffee. For the first time, our eyes meet. My stomach does a little flip, and I glance away almost instantly, my face suddenly feeling way too warm. I’m so glad that I’m wearing makeup today, otherwise, he would see the bright red color that has crept into my cheeks.

Did I mention that he’s really handsome? It was easy to forget about that when he behaved like a dick, but now?

“I owe you an apology,” he continues, and I tilt my head curiously, now mentally prepared to meet his eyes again. Still, I look at his eyebrow instead as he goes on. “I didn’t sleep for like, two days, was hungry and just… more shit from work kept piling on and I snapped. I took it out on you.”

“And?” I cross my arms in front of my chest.

“And what?”

“Well, you said you owe me an apology, you haven’t actually apologized.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles like a scolded child, but I’m not letting him off the hook that easily.

“For…?” I bait and watch as he shakes his head, the corners of his mouth twitching like he’s amused.

“For running you over at Gare du Nord and behaving like a jackass at the reception,” he says, narrowing his eyes like he’s amused about me still talking to him like he’s a toddler.

“Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it? Good job, buddy,” I can’t help but tease him, my face softening. “Apology accepted,” I say and sit back down, taking a sip of my coffee. “You should really apologize to André and Julia too, though.”

“To who?” His eyebrows knit together in confusion as he stirs some creamer into his coffee.

“The two employees at the front desk you screamed at yesterday.”

“Ah.” The confusion washes off his face. “Yeah, of course. I’ll do that later,” he assures me and takes a sip of his coffee, then gets up. “Do you mind keeping an eye on my stuff while I get some food?”

“Go ahead,” I tell him with a nod and he gets up to get in line at the buffet. My eyes follow him, curious.

It seems his temper has truly dissipated today. He doesn’t seem fazed when a child runs into him, even though it makes him drop the croissant he was about to get and he doesn’t even react when the lady in front of him accidentally elbows him in the stomach while getting herself some cheese.

I’m still suspicious. After all, he genuinely behaved like a grade-A asshole yesterday. So far, having a bad day sounds like a reasonable explanation for that, though, so maybe I should cut him some slack.

I check my watch. Still ten more minutes before I need to leave to make it to the Louvre on time. I might as well stay until then.

“What’s your name?” I ask him when he sits down again. He looks up, surprised.

“Huh?”

“What is your name?” I repeat myself and lean my elbows on the table. “I’ve been calling you Mr. Rude in my head but I doubt that’s your real name. Or asshole, but I think we’re past that. Now that you’re not behaving like one, I’m not sure what to call you.”

“It’s Reed,” he says, opening his mouth as though he’d continue, but stops himself. “What’s your name?”

“Abby,” I say, reaching out my hand.

He takes it, a little unsure at first, but his grip is warm and gentle. Tiny sparks dance across my skin as his fingers wrap around mine, just for a moment.

“Nice to meet you, Reed,” I add, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Just like that?” His eyes jump over my face like he’s trying to discern if I’m being serious.

“I’m giving you a do-over.” I shrug and take another sip of my coffee. “And it’s the only one you’re getting. The only chance to repair your image in my head. No judgment. At least for now.”

“Thank you,” he says, his voice quiet but full of sincerity. He looks at me, and I freeze. There’s something in his eyes, that sharp, intense blue, like they could see straight through me. It’s the kind of look that makes you feel exposed, like he’s reading every thought in your head with just one blink.

Get a hold of yourself, Abby!

“You’re very welcome.” I clear my throat nervously. “So what do you do that’s been giving you a hard time yesterday, Reed?” I ask, quickly avoiding his intense gaze.

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